When shopping a book to prospective publishers and/or agents, a common phrase you receive in a rejection letter is that writing is subjective and that you may find a favorable audience with another company or agent. Kind professionals often remind you of this to encourage you not to give up your endeavor based on their personal opinion. Sometimes, they even state that the project isn’t what they are looking for at this time. Are such comments sincere, or are they just generic lines of a form letter?
When I was going through the process of trying to publish my debut novel, I assumed the latter. In fact, I typically skimmed over the disclosure, which comes at the end in most cases, weary from reading it time and again. By then, I’d read their refusal to proceed any further, so I was merely scrolling toward the delete button.
True, the statement does little to dispel your disappointment, especially when that’s all you’re receiving over an extended period. Many times, it is a canned saying in a form letter because companies are swamped by submissions and simply don’t have the chance to personalize each response. Nonetheless, that doesn’t mean the expression is any less true.
In reality, we’re well acquainted with the concept of subjectivity, even if we don’t equate it in that term. When we’re the readers and going down the store or library aisle, we browse through the shelves, examine covers, and scan the synopses on the back. If you’re like me, this can turn into a longer process than you originally planned.
Due to the variety of options at your fingertips, you might enjoy sifting through a few choices, at least, before you commit to anything. Some of them are definite no’s, others can be solid possibilities, and a handful are the ones you place in your cart without hesitation. Meanwhile, you look down the aisle and notice someone else earnestly grabbing one of the titles that you immediately rejected for yourself.
Likewise, the same will reasonably happen in the professional world. Not every editor/agent is going to be drawn to the same book. Sure, the wish list or preferred genres they name in their bios and so forth may make it seem like they’d latch right onto your manuscript, but again, picture yourself in that book aisle. You don’t take home every title in your favorite genre, do you?
Timing can play into subjectivity, too, like some mention in their rejection letters. How? For one thing, publishers and agents have a pulse on what currently sells well in the industry. They also might have taken on something similar recently and are seeking something different now. We shouldn’t overlook the fact that they’re humans like us, so their moods can dictate their present interest. As I’ve aged and gone through various experiences, I don’t always gravitate toward the same kinds of stories I used to adore, given the way I feel at the moment.
The subjectivity we face while pursuing publication trains us for the subjectivity that follows us throughout our careers. When our books are available to readers, we’ll be on the other side of the aisle, observing readers scrutinize our work to decide whether or not they find it intriguing. After that, they’ll manifest their subjectivity in reviews. Along with that, subjectivity remains at play when we’re reaching out to the press and other marketing outlets, including entering contests and book fairs, to market our book.
Subjectivity isn’t our foe or an easy excuse to decline submissions. Eventually, it will work in our favor, when the right editor or agent declares, “This one’s for me!” Their enthusiasm will compel them to assist us in furthering its success, much more than someone who could take it or leave it. Hence, remembering that this is a subjective business should encourage us rather than irritate us, as it can open the door to an acceptance as easily as it can a rejection.
KarinaBartow.com 